


10 Days of Prompts: Day 5

by InkedClaws



Category: Original Work
Genre: Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 06:04:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10610787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkedClaws/pseuds/InkedClaws
Summary: 125 years ago, an ancestor of yours traded the next male in his bloodline soul to Lucifer. A son is yet to be born and Lucifer is sick of waiting and wants your infant daughter.





	

She'd run as far as she could and had come to a dead end, pressed up against the towering stained glass window of the cathedral. Around her the cold statues of countless Saints looked on in pity. The red-haired woman sobbed, clutching her newborn to her chest in terror.

"You can't do this! Please, please, I'm begging you, don't take my baby. I'll give you anything, anything else!" 

Her eyes widened as a desperate idea came to her mind.

"My boyfriend or my step-dad, y-you could have one of them instead! That would work right? A soul is a soul right?"

The Prince of Pride resisted the urge to rub his temples or the bridge of his nose. He also viciously suppressed the urge to rip the human woman to shreds. Or any of his other bad habits really, they were bad for business. Instead he graced the insipid little twit with one of his winning smiles, his red eyes glowing in the darkened halls of the church.

"It doesn't work like that Matilda. I want that one right there; that is the price I was promised and that is the price I'm here to collect. Now be a good girl and give it here."

The woman shook her head and looked around frantically, he knew she was stalling, hoping the priest would get here in time to stop him, but that wasn't going to happen. 

"I never made a deal with you! Just leave me alone!"

"No you may not have my dear, but your great-great-grandfather, a wonderful man I promise, sold the soul of his firstborn to me in exchange for-"

He paused for a moment conjuring his copy of the contract into being.

"Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, fame and success and in exchange, I, Lucifer get to have his firstborn son."

Her eyes lit up, that was her way out.

"See! You've got the wrong person! I'm not related to this Tchaikovsky guy, I've never even heard of him. And look, look! This is a baby girl! You can't have her!"

Lucifer rolled his eyes and gave in to temptation, running frustrated hands through his long black hair. He sat down on the bench in front of the organ and tried to look as unflustered as possible.

"You're ignorance to your ancestry isn't my problem, I've waited 125 years for my payment and you know what? I'm tired of waiting. After her knocked up that psychotic little twit of his, this bloodline has produced nothing but girls, so I've decided to change the deal, any firstborn would do."

"No! You can't have her!" She pulled out a tiny silver cross from around her neck and brandished it at him. "The power of Christ compels you demon! Go back to hell and leave me alone." The baby in her arms began to cry, her plaintive wails echoing off of the cold stone walls.

Lucifer laughed at her, deep and hardy, as he looked around the heavily decorated 'house of God'. Suddenly he jumped to his feet and growled at the woman. Massive feathered wings, grand in both their scope and majesty, sprang from his back and blotted out all the light for the open double doors behind them.

"Compels me to do what, Mortal? I was promised a firstborn. You had twins, I want her. It's simple really. Now you will honor this deal whether you like it or not."

A ring of fire surrounded the cowering woman and suddenly her child was no longer in her arms. Lucifer looked down at the child, who in his arms lay quietly, large brown doe eyes staring up at him in absolute contentment. Little finger reached up, struggling to examine the terrifying face above her. Lucifer tamped down tightly on the urge to give her a small sweet smile and instead chose to turn a scornful smirk in her mother's direction.

"See that wasn't hard now was it, Mortal? Now run along, go raise your other daughter and forget you ever had this one. Frankly she'll be better off with me, I mean honestly, who doesn't know the name of the guy that wrote the Nutcracker?"

Lucifer winked at her and disappeared in an eruption of brimstone and fire, leaving Matilda alone to mourn her loss.


End file.
